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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725681">To Grandmother's House We Go</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eienvine/pseuds/Eienvine'>Eienvine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Holmesbury for the Holidays [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Enola Holmes (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:23:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725681</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eienvine/pseuds/Eienvine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>William Tewkesbury is not excited about going home for Thanksgiving and enduring his grandmother’s usual disapproval. But at least this year, he’ll have backup: his new girlfriend, Enola Holmes, who is not one to sit idly by when someone she cares about is unhappy. So this might be a decent Thanksgiving after all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Enola Holmes/Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Holmesbury for the Holidays [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>261</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Grandmother's House We Go</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So apparently posting modern Holmesbury AUs on major holidays is my new thing. :D With apologies to Whimbrel, who I think I made more of a jerk than he probably is in the movies? We just don't know that much about him, because they wanted to keep him mysterious so we'd believe that he could be the killer.</p>
<p>And to you Americans, happy Thanksgiving. To the rest of you, happy Thursday.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>. . . . . .</p>
<p>William Tewkesbury has no intention of going home for Thanksgiving.</p>
<p>Holidays are always a tense time for the Tewkesbury family, because there’s always been tension in the Tewkesbury family. On the one hand you have Frances Tewkesbury, formidable matriarch of the clan, and Uncle Whimbrel: old-fashioned, inflexible, with loads of opinions about how other people should live their lives and an unshakeable sense that being born into wealth and privilege makes them somehow morally superior to other people. On the other hand you have William’s immediate family: his late father George and his mother Caroline, far more reasonable and loving. While he was alive, George had always acted as a buffer, shielding his wife and his son from his mother and brother’s more unreasonable tendencies. Since his death three years prior, Caroline has tried to fill that role for her son, but with less success; Grandmother Frances is far less willing to listen to her daughter-in-law than she was to her son.</p>
<p>So William has dreaded every holiday he’s been home for since he went to college. Grandmother always spends the entire time criticizing his life choices, his major, his hairstyle, and anything else she can get her claws into, and Uncle Whimbrel won’t let go of this conviction he has that William should join the army, like he did, and that anything else he chooses to do with his life is selfish and unpatriotic. William finally just stopped going home; he spent last Christmas alone and the last 4th of July with a roommate’s family.</p>
<p>But now he finally has someone he actually wants to spend Thanksgiving with, and it’s the first time he’s looked forward to a holiday in ages.</p>
<p>“I found a catering company that can do a Thanksgiving meal for two,” he announces, looking over the top of his laptop at his girlfriend of two weeks. “No offense, but you’re an even worse cook than I am. And I was figuring we could eat here; no offense, but your apartment is kind of terrible.”</p>
<p>Enola Holmes, curled up in a nearby armchair with her nose stuck in a textbook, rolls her eyes. “Saying ‘no offense’ doesn’t make what you’re saying less offensive,” she says, and then hesitates. “Although you’re right that I’m a terrible cook and my apartment is sort of gross.”</p>
<p>“So we agree,” he says cheerfully. “Thanksgiving here. Unless you have plans with your brothers?”</p>
<p>“Mycroft is on some sort of diplomatic visit to Pakistan for the rest of the month,” Enola says. “Sherlock said he’d host me if I wanted to come, but he was clearly only saying it to be polite. And also every time I’ve visited him, he’s spent the whole time getting called off to crime scenes while I sit in his apartment and twiddle my thumbs.”</p>
<p>Who says “twiddle my thumbs”? She is so adorable. (Yes, William is smitten enough that he finds Enola’s use of old-fashioned phrases adorable. So sue him.)</p>
<p>“So you’re in?”</p>
<p>At that, Enola hesitates, then lays down her textbook, and William is immediately on edge. Is it too early to suggest they spend a holiday together? They’ve only been dating since Halloween, but they’ve been friends since Christmas. That’s not too fast, is it? “What?”</p>
<p>“Your mom called me this morning,” she says.</p>
<p>He blinks. “My mom? How did she get your number?”</p>
<p>“She said she called the school and asked. I guess when your husband’s name is on the administration building, they have a hard time saying no to you.”</p>
<p>“And what did she say?” He and his mother talk often on the phone, and she’s been very supportive of his crush on Enola and of their new relationship. But for her to go behind his back to get Enola’s number . . .</p>
<p>“She said you’ve been frustratingly vague about your Thanksgiving plans, and she was hoping I could get a straight answer out of you. She also says that she’s been dying to meet me, so I should come home with you and she’ll host me for the holiday. And she says that you only have to see your grandmother for the actual meal, and the rest of the time it’ll just be the three of us.”</p>
<p>William blinks in surprise.</p>
<p>Enola rises from her chair and comes to sit beside him. “Tewks—” she’s been trying out various nicknames since they started dating— “I think we should go.”</p>
<p>“Seriously?”</p>
<p>“I mean, under normal circumstances, it’s way too early for me to go home and meet your family, but . . . you haven’t seen your mom since last Thanksgiving. I know things are weird with your grandma, but don’t take that out on your mom.” She hesitates, and he knows her well enough to tell that she’s working herself up to admitting something that makes her feel vulnerable. “I would give anything to have my mom want to see me as much as your mom wants to see you.”</p>
<p>William is pulling Enola into his arms before he’s even consciously decided to react. Enola’s mother Eudoria is a brilliant, unconventional woman who did not bother warning Enola before leaving the country on the day after her high school graduation, leaving an eighteen-year-old Enola to fend for herself all that summer and move herself into her freshman dorm. Eudoria now lives in Africa, working for some non-profit that campaigns for women’s rights and education. William’s never even spoken to the woman, but he sort of hates her; she really could not have made it any more clear to Enola that having to raise her daughter always kept her back from the life she actually wanted to live. Enola’s never said this out loud, but he can tell there’s a vulnerable spot in her psyche that never really healed from that abandonment.</p>
<p>“Well, I’ll always want to see you,” he says into her hair.</p>
<p>She leans back and tips her face up to his, her eyes filled with affection. “I know,” she says simply, and how can he not kiss her after an invitation like that?</p>
<p>Some time later, she nestles into his arms, her head on his shoulder. She can seem prickly at first, especially with people who annoy her, so he’d been surprised (and massively pleased) at how physically affectionate she is now that they’re dating.</p>
<p>“You really think we should go?” he asks.</p>
<p>She nods. “Your mom would love to see you, and I’d love to meet her and see where you grew up. Besides, if you don’t see your grandmother eventually, she might decide she misses you and come here to visit.”</p>
<p>He shudders at the thought. “Good point. Fine, we’ll go home for Thanksgiving.”</p>
<p>. . . . . .</p>
<p>Caroline Tewkesbury and Enola hit it off immediately, to William’s immense relief. He’d supposed they would, with both of them being women who are very driven to do good in the world—and he’d supposed that even if his mother had ended up disliking Enola, she’s diplomatic enough that she would have hidden it well—but he’s pleased to see them talking and laughing like old friends by the end of dinner on Wednesday night.</p>
<p>Caroline is clearly a little alarmed by the casual way Enola talks about visiting crime scenes with her brother Sherlock on occasion—Enola has always been rather fascinated by crime, and will talk about it at length given the chance—but that’s the only hiccup of the evening. And when Enola has gone to use the bathroom after dessert and the Tewkesburys are preparing to leave the restaurant, Caroline puts an arm around William’s shoulder. “I like her,” she informs him. “She’s clever, interesting, funny . . .”</p>
<p>William smiles fondly. “I like her too.”</p>
<p>“I can tell,” his mother laughs. “This is the first time you’ve ever brought a girl home to meet your family.”</p>
<p>“To be fair,” he says reasonably, “you sent me to an all-boys private middle school <em> and </em> high school. I barely knew any girls until I came to college.”</p>
<p>“Good point.”</p>
<p>They spend a happy evening in William’s childhood home; Caroline gives Enola the full tour, and William can see his girlfriend is trying not to gawk at the massive and elegant house. Enola comes from money as well, but apparently not nearly to the extent that William does. Plus he knows from Enola’s stories that Eudoria didn’t really bother with things like decorating or maintaining their house and yard.</p>
<p>Later, Caroline exercises the prerogative of all mothers meeting their children’s romantic partners for the first time, and pulls out photo album after photo album of William as a child. The embarrassment of hearing Enola laugh uproariously at pictures of him as an awkward eleven-year-old with braces and a bowl cut is offset by the pleasure of hearing her exclaim, over pictures of him during his less-awkward phases, “You were so cute!”</p>
<p>That night, he bids Enola good night at the doorway of her bedroom (Caroline had shot William a quick glance when she informed Enola she’d prepared one of the guest bedrooms for her, but William has no complaints there; they’ve only been dating for three weeks, and they are absolutely not to that point). She looks up at him with those eyes that always see so much, and asks him if he’s ready for the meal tomorrow.</p>
<p>He’d acted perfectly fine with it all when they were talking to Caroline downstairs—he doesn’t want his beloved mother to feel bad about asking him to come home—but with Enola, he lets himself be honest: he shakes his head.</p>
<p>Enola wraps her arms around his waist and lays her head on his shoulder. “Well, at least this time you’ll have me. If your grandma and your uncle start giving you crap, I can just say something shocking and they can disapprove of me instead. I don’t care whether they like me.”</p>
<p>William wants to say that <em> he </em> cares very much whether his relatives like Enola, because he has every intention of her being part of his life for a long time to come. But that doesn’t feel like the kind of thing you can say to your girlfriend after only three weeks of dating, so instead he says, “Don’t make yourself a target for my sake. They’re annoying, but I can handle them.”</p>
<p>Enola nods and steps back. “By the way,” she says, “I really like your mom.”</p>
<p>“Good,” he grins. “She really likes you.”</p>
<p>Enola gives a very pleased smile at that, and William wants one of those smiles for himself, so he adds, “And I really like you too.”</p>
<p>She rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning as she kisses him goodnight.</p>
<p>. . . . . .</p>
<p>Thanksgiving dinner actually goes pretty well for the first hour. Grandmother and Uncle Whimbrel receive their guests in the parlor of the massive mansion that’s been the seat of the Tewkesbury family since before the Civil War, and they enjoy hors d'oeuvres while grilling Enola about her life.</p>
<p>Fortunately, Enola gives a stunning performance: poised, well-mannered, and confident. He knows her well enough to know that a lot of it is a show she’s putting on, because under normal circumstances she’s much more relaxed and informal, but his relatives don’t seem to notice. She gives very impressive answers to all their questions, talking about her studies and the résumé-padding extracurriculars and internships she does and her future plans to become a lawyer. That gives her a segue to go off about William’s father, the late Supreme Court justice George Tewkesbury; she talks about having studied his life and work for school but also just because she’s come to admire him so much, and she makes sure to praise him for his intelligence and integrity (things Grandmother can congratulate herself for, since she raised him) rather than his particular political views (which Grandmother was never wild about).</p>
<p>William had no idea that she knew so much about his father, and he stares at Enola in surprise, and she catches his eye and smiles.</p>
<p>“So tell us about your family,” Grandmother requests.</p>
<p>From most people this would be an innocuous question, but from Grandmother this is obviously a test, to see if she’s worthy of the Tewkesbury family. Luckily, Enola is ready for such questioning. “Well, my brother works for the state department. You may have heard of him: Mycroft Holmes?”</p>
<p>Uncle Whimbrel sits forward, eyes wide. “Mycroft Holmes, the Under Secretary of State for Political Affairs?”</p>
<p>“Ah, you <em> have </em>heard of him. And my other brother is Sherlock Holmes, who works as a detective in New York City. You may have heard of him as well; he recently brought down Charles Augustus Milverton.”</p>
<p>That case was all over the news, and Uncle Whimbrel and Grandmother look suitably impressed.</p>
<p>But Grandmother isn’t quite done yet. “And your parents?”</p>
<p>“My father passed away when I was four. My mother works for a educational charity in Africa.”</p>
<p>(“Charity” makes Eudoria’s work sound a lot more benevolent and a lot less radical than it actually is, and also fails to disclose that the woman abandoned her daughter to live in Africa. Enola’s pretty good at saying just enough, in just the right way. Which is important, if she’s going to survive in the world William grew up in.)</p>
<p>And with that answer, Grandmother leans back, looking satisfied; Enola has clearly passed the test. Which comes with its own pitfalls, it seems: “You seem a very impressive young lady,” says Grandmother, then adds, “So are you planning to marry my grandson?”</p>
<p>William chokes on his drink, while his mother uses her own drink to hide her smile.</p>
<p>Enola just smiles placidly. “It’s still too early to tell,” she says evenly. “But I will say that whatever young lady does marry him will be very fortunate. He’s one of the best men I know.”</p>
<p>And that’s quite a statement, given that just three days ago they had a playful argument where she referred to him as a boy, he corrected her that he was a man, and she informed him “You’re a man when I tell you you’re a man.”</p>
<p>So when dinner is announced just a moment later and they all rise to go into the dining room, he lingers back with Enola long enough to whisper, “So I’m a man now?”</p>
<p>She rolls her eyes fondly. “Don’t read too much into it.”</p>
<p>Dinner is quite pleasant at first. Now that Enola has been interrogated and has passed muster, they can move onto other topics, and over the turkey and mashed potatoes, Grandmother speaks at length about her various social and civic causes. It’s under the guise of catching William up on what he’s missed lately, though really he knows his grandmother just likes a chance to brag. Uncle Whimbrel chimes in occasionally, and Caroline makes various assenting murmurs, so the two college students don’t have to say much.</p>
<p>It’s all very tame, and part of William hopes that maybe this will be a pleasant visit, for once. Of course, then Enola will think he’s been overreacting when he says he hates visiting his grandmother, but still, it could be nice to have a meal with his extended family where he doesn’t want to lock himself in his room and cry when it’s over.</p>
<p>But, silly him, he forgot that this is Frances and Whimbrel Tewkesbury he’s talking about: of <em> course </em> they’re going to criticize him. They’re just waiting for the dessert to be served, apparently.</p>
<p>“So, William,” says his grandmother in a certain tone he’s come to hate, and his hand freezes on its way to serve up some pie. “You’ve been very dull today. Tell us about your schooling.”</p>
<p>He pulls his hand back into his lap. “It’s going very well. I should finish this semester with close to a 4.0.”</p>
<p>“Are you still insisting on studying botany?” The way in which she pronounces the word leaves no doubt as to how she feels about the subject, and William squirms.</p>
<p>“I am.”</p>
<p>“Really, William,” she says with exaggerated disappointment, “with your potential—”</p>
<p>“Yes, I agree,” pipes in Enola unexpectedly, and everyone turns to stare at her: most of them because <em> no one </em> interrupts Frances Tewkesbury and gets away with it, and William because . . . did she just say she agrees with his grandmother? But of course she doesn’t, and he feels silly for thinking it, even for a moment. “Botany <em> does </em> have so much potential, doesn’t it?” she goes on, ignoring the sharp looks sent at her from the head of the table. “I don’t know if you all heard, but researchers in the botany department at our university have developed a new method for growing crops in cold, rocky soil; they’re traveling to the Andes to help villages implement it, and if that’s successful, they’ll start taking it elsewhere. It’s incredible, isn’t it? This could improve the lives of thousands, even millions of people. It’s extraordinary, the potential that botany has to save lives.” She smiles at Grandmother, looking utterly sincere and enthusiastic. “I’m sure you agree; with everything you were saying earlier about the work you’ve done with various causes to feed the underprivileged, I’m sure you can see how important this kind of work is.”</p>
<p>Grandmother blinks at her a few times, clearly uncertain how to press on, and William decides that if Enola had responded positively when Grandmother mentioned marriage a little while ago, he would drop to one knee right now.</p>
<p>Enola might have briefly subdued Grandmother, but Uncle Whimbrel rushes in where angels fear to tread. “All very good, I’m sure,” he says, and fixes a disapproving glance on William, “but even if plants are useful, I still think the highest, the most noble calling, is to serve one’s country.”</p>
<p>“It is very important to provide service in one’s country,” agrees Enola. “So aren’t we lucky that there are so many ways to work for the greater public good? For instance, did you know that William started coming with me to volunteer at the Women and Children in Crisis shelter? I think it’s so great of him. I’ve always felt that if you want to change the world, if you really want to help people, you should start in your own town. Find the people who are vulnerable and disenfranchised, and start doing what you can there. That’s how we’ll start making the world a better place.”</p>
<p>Uncle Whimbrel looks more dour than usual. “I was thinking of the military, Miss Holmes.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you mean when I mentioned the vulnerable and disenfranchised? That makes sense. I’m sure we’re all aware of the statistics that show that veterans have higher rates of homelessness and suicide than the general population. So yes, helping people who are suffering repercussions from their time in the military would be a wonderful way to make the world a better place.”</p>
<p>Uncle Whimbrel now looks rather irritated at being so entirely misunderstood, but with Enola blinking innocently at him, he doesn’t seem to know what to say. And William can see his mother fighting back a smile, just like he is.</p>
<p>But now Grandmother decides to invite herself back into the conversation; she’s never cared much about Whimbrel’s insistence on William joining the army, so she turns the conversation to a new topic.</p>
<p>“Your hair’s gotten so long, William,” she complains. “Miss Holmes, why don’t you take him to get it cut?”</p>
<p>“I did,” says Enola. “Last week. Don’t you think it looks great?”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you tell the barber to make it shorter?” Grandmother demands.</p>
<p>“Why would I do that?” Enola asks innocently. “Everybody loves his hair.” She leans forward and speaks as though telling a secret. “I don’t know if you knew, but everyone thinks William’s the most attractive guy at our school. Actually, last week a couple girls in my Advanced Writing class were going on and on about how cute he is, and especially that he has gorgeous hair and they always just want to touch it.”</p>
<p>William can’t help laughing, which is not something he expected when the meal started. “And you just sat there and listened to them talk about your boyfriend that way?”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” she says reasonably. “I turned around and told them that I’m the only one who’s allowed to touch your hair.” She turns to Grandmother with a smile, because clearly she’s not above pandering. “You should be proud of yourselves, by the way; he’s clearly got great genes.”</p>
<p>The look on Grandmother’s face is hilarious; she clearly knows she’s being pandered to, but can’t help being flattered. And the silence that follows as she tries to decide how to react gives Caroline time to glance at her watch and exclaim in surprise. “Oh, I’d lost track of the time! We have to go, I’m afraid. But this has been wonderful! Thank you for having us, Frances. And Whimbrel, it’s always delightful to see you.”</p>
<p>She stands, and William and Enola quickly follow suit and bid Frances and Whimbrel polite goodbyes. And then they’re leaving, far earlier than William had expected, with far less fuss than he’d feared. And he can’t help grinning.</p>
<p>. . . . . .</p>
<p>Ten minutes later, they’re back at home. They made the trip in total silence; William certainly has things he’d like to say, but it felt weird to do so in front of their driver. Once they’re in the house, Caroline rummages in a cupboard and finds a brownie mix. “I think we need a proper dessert,” she says—the first thing anyone’s said since leaving Grandmother’s house. “Since we didn’t get to finish our pie.”</p>
<p>Enola glances uneasily at William, then back at Caroline. “I’m sorry about back there,” she says. “Was that too much?”</p>
<p>William stares at her, surprised that she can question whether what she did was <em> absolutely perfect, </em> then answers her with a brief but heartfelt kiss.</p>
<p>Caroline just laughs at the display. “No, Enola, what you did was very necessary.” She hesitates, then sets the brownie mix down on the counter and approaches her son. “And it’s made me realize I owe you an apology, William. I . . . I have always seen the way your grandmother treats you—the way she treats both of us—but I suppose I’d given up on getting her to stop; I told myself that’s just how she is, and I can’t change it.” She looks at Enola. “But seeing it through your eyes—seeing you respond so politely when she was so rude—made me realize that this isn’t acceptable. This has to stop. And until we have found a way to convince your grandmother and uncle of that, perhaps we should celebrate our holidays with just the immediate family, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>William pulls her into a hug. “Thank you,” he says quietly.</p>
<p>His mother grips him tightly, and he’s not surprised, when they separate, to see tears in her eyes (matching the tears in his own eyes). “So I was thinking,” she says, “for Christmas, what about going up to Aunt Harriet’s cabin? She’s always telling me I should use it more. Maybe we could ski a little while we’re there. And your grandmother and uncle can’t try to invite themselves along, since it’s my side of the family’s property.”</p>
<p>He grins broadly. “I love that idea,” he says, and then remembers that Enola will likely be alone for the holiday as well. “Though . . .”</p>
<p>His mother is way ahead of him. “And Enola, from what you’ve said, it sounds like your family is scattered across the world and very busy. If you find yourself without plans, it would be an absolute pleasure to host you for Christmas as well. It’s a very spacious cabin.”</p>
<p>Enola looks at her, and then starts to smile, and there’s something almost bashful about it. “I would love to join you.”</p>
<p>“Good,” says Caroline, “that’s settled, then. Now, brownies.” She walks back to the counter. “I haven’t cooked for myself in . . . a while. But surely we can figure out a brownie mix, right?”</p>
<p>William glances at Enola, only to see she’s already grinning at him, and he pulls her into his arms to press a kiss to her forehead, wishing he had the words to thank her for the changes she’s already wrought in his life. And then he puts his arm around her shoulders and turns to his mother. “Enola’s an even worse cook than I am,” he announces— </p>
<p>“Excuse me!” she sputters— </p>
<p>“—but we’re all smart; between the three of us, I’m sure we can figure out a brownie mix.”</p>
<p>And eventually they do, and eat the brownies warm from the pan, and it is better than any pumpkin pie could ever be.</p>
<p>. . . . . .</p>
<p>fin</p>
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